


you were the one i always wanted (the one who left me haunted)

by plutomurphy



Series: murphamy one shots :) [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (I’m So Sorry For Both of Those Tags Being Next to Each Other), (These Tags are in Such a Weird Order I’m Sorry), Angst, Arguing, Bittersweet Ending, Blood, But It’s NOT a Fix-It, Canonical Character Death, Crying, Episode: s07e13 Blood Giant, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Ghosts, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Last Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pining, Rewrite, Sad Ending, Shooting, Sobbing, Soulmates, The 100 (TV) Season 7, The 100 - Freeform, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutomurphy/pseuds/plutomurphy
Summary: “Murphy, that’s enough,” Octavia said, walking closer to them. “Bellamy wasn’t himself. Clarke couldn’t have trusted him-”“-Yes he was! You all were just too stubborn to try for one second to listen to what Bellamy had to say. That’s all he wanted. He was still our Bellamy,” Murphy said. “Just because none of you made the effort to see it doesn’t mean he wasn’t still there.”-Murphy stays behind with Clarke to say goodbye to Bellamy before they go through the anomaly, unsure of when he’ll see him again. Clarke refuses to leave Sanctum without Madi’s sketchbook and Murphy refuses to leave Bellamy bleeding out on the palace floor.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake & John Murphy, Bellamy Blake/John Murphy, Clarke Griffin & John Murphy, Clarke Griffin & Madi, Emori & John Murphy (The 100), John Murphy (The 100) & Picasso | Russell Lightbourne’s Dog, Madi & John Murphy (The 100)
Series: murphamy one shots :) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163405
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	you were the one i always wanted (the one who left me haunted)

**Author's Note:**

> firstly- the title is from a very good song called haunted by the band camino i highly recommend that is all carry on
> 
> so...basically this fic was created bc one of my mutuals on twitter (dorka- hi- love u) tweeted abt what would’ve happened if murphy had stayed behind to see bellamy get shot and all that and i wanted an opportunity to write a semi-sad fic both to bring myself pain and to practice ! 
> 
> anyways uhh the only thing that’s not canon up to 713 is that memori never get back together in s5 they r just close friends but i think everything else is canon ??? oh picasso also comes with them through the anomaly for some reason probably bc madi wanted her to come idk man
> 
> also a thank you to my wonderful friend shay who beta’d this for me :) on here they are @commanderclarke so PLEASE go check out their fics they r incredible & they also make very very good edits on instagram @spceprncess <3 if u do not show them love & appreciation i will retaliate do not test me
> 
> okok happy reading ! or not so happy i guess

“Not you,” Clarke said. “You’ve made your choice.” 

Bellamy tore his eyes away from Clarke, her gaze was uncomfortable and livid in a way that felt foreign. He made eye contact with Murphy from across the room, the light from the swirling pool of jade painted him with radiance and Bellamy with envy in the darkened room. The darkness was caused by both the dimmed lighting and the tension between Bellamy Blake and the people he loved. 

“I really hope this new thing you believe in is worth it,” Murphy said, staring longingly back at Bellamy. 

“It is,” Bellamy responded weakly, not sure if Murphy could hear him. But even if he had, it wouldn’t have made a difference. 

Raven’s face twisted into a sneer. “Let’s go,” she muttered, staring back at Emori and the others to make sure they’d follow. They went one by one until just Emori and Murphy stood before the portal. Murphy looked into the green, taking a step back to throw his head over his shoulder, eyes glued on Bellamy. 

“John, we need to go,” Emori said quietly, her voice solemn. 

“I’ll be right behind you,” he replied, eyes unmoving. “I want to say goodbye. I don’t know when the next time I’ll see him will be.”

Emori nodded, pulling Murphy into her arms for a quick embrace. “You’ll find your way back to each other. You always do.” Emori finally let herself step into the portal, knowing that if anything went wrong at least Clarke would look out for him. “Be quick okay?” Murphy grinned at her as she faded away into the glow of the anomaly.

When he turned back to where Bellamy and Clarke stood, they both had wet eyes and faces clouded with distress. “Murphy, what are you doing? You need to go,” she said. 

Murphy shrugged walking closer to Clarke. “I know that everybody hates Bellamy now or whatever,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I do.” 

“I can help you, if you help me,” Sheidheda rasped from where he was crumpled on the palace floor. “My throne,” he pointed out, Bellamy looking at him with confusion. “The book.”

Murphy and Clarke turned away from each other quickly at the mention of the book on the throne. The sketchbook on the throne. _Madi’s_ sketchbook. “Bellamy,” she spoke. “Give it to me,” Clarke moved to point her gun at the disciples scattered around the room. 

“What’s in the book?” Murphy asked. 

“It’s Madi’s sketchbook,” Clarke said quietly to Murphy, gun still pointed toward the disciples. “They will kill her to get what they want, and you know it. I won’t let that happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Murphy crossed his arms. 

“She still has memories from when the flame was in her head. Some are in the book and once they know that she has more they’ll use her to get to the test,” she argued, leaning away from Murphy to walk slightly closer to Bellamy. 

“Clarke, Madi isn’t in any danger. I’ll make sure of that,” Bellamy said, slowly. “I’m trying to save us all.”

Clarke inhaled harshly, white-knuckling the grip of her handgun. “I’ll kill Cadogan. Is that what you want?” she spat. “Give it to me.”

“Bellamy- just give Clarke the book,” Murphy said, eyeing him warily.

“This isn’t about Cadogan. It’s bigger than any of us. I have no choice but to share this.”

In one swift motion, Clarke’s gun was no longer pointed at the nameless disciples around them, but at Bellamy. “Don’t make me do this,” she said, voice shaking. 

“Clarke, what the hell are you doing?” Murphy yelled, moving to stand in front of her and shielding Bellamy from her gun. “This is Bellamy we’re talking about. I’m worried about Madi too but he’d never do anything to hurt her. To hurt you.”

“Do you seriously trust him?”

Murphy’s throat was dry, barbed wire winding around him tighter and together. “Yeah, I do.” He turned around to stare at Bellamy, saddened by the broken look in Bellamy’s eyes. 

“Murphy you have to believe me I’d never-”

“-I know,” Murphy affirmed, cutting Bellamy off. “Clarke, just put the gun down and we can figure this out. Nobody needs to get hurt.”

Clarke made no effort to move. “I’m not leaving without the sketchbook.”

“You’re not gonna shoot me, Clarke. The bridge will close. You should go. Both of you.”

“Not without that book,” she repeated. 

“Listen to me I’m telling you that the entire human race is at stake. Everyone's suffering can end. Madi’s suffering too. This is how we do better.”

With shaking shoulders and gasping cries increasing in volume, Clarke’s aim didn’t budge. Murphy moved to stand in front of Clarke’s gun again, but she pushed him out of the way. “Clarke seriously put the gun-

“-I can’t let them hurt her,” she wailed, water rolling down her cheeks. 

“Clarke, we won’t let them hurt her. I’ll even stay here if you want and make sure Bellamy doesn't do anything stupid just _please_ put the gun down,” Murphy rambled, chest flooding with sudden anxiety. 

“Nothing will happen to Madi. I’ll make sure of it, but this is the only way. I’m sorry.” 

The world went silent for a moment or the universe rather, and things seemed to move in slow motion after Bellamy spoke. His voice thick with emotion and tears streaking down his tan skin to match Clarke’s. Soon enough, Murphy was bound to join them.

“Me too.”

Murphy ran the second his ears registered the gunshot, getting to Bellamy just as he fell to the floor. His breaths grew wavered as he knelt next to Bellamy’s trembling body, cradling his head in a way similar to how Bellamy did when they first arrived on Sanctum at the start of Emori’s psychosis. 

“Bellamy?” Murphy pleaded, hands frantically moving around Bellamy’s torso to find the wound. There was so much red spreading quickly on the white fabric of his clothes and Murphy looked around frantically for something to get the stupid robe off of him, eventually ripping through the fabric with the knife. 

“Murphy,” Clarke sobbed. “The bridge- we need to go.”

“I’m not leaving without him,” Murphy shouted back at her, sounding a lot less angry than he wanted to and a lot more scared. 

“Murphy-”

“-Just go!” he cried, voice gravelly as he tried not to panic, or cry, or both. He didn’t hear Clarke respond but that didn’t matter, getting through the anomaly didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Bellamy, bleeding out in Murphy’s arms. 

“Murphy,” Bellamy groaned, coughing up more blood that rolled down his face to mix with his tears on the floor. Murphy had blood splattered all over his face, neck, hands. _Bellamy’s_ blood. He couldn’t breathe. “You need- to go-”

“I’m not leaving you-” Murphy said, chest rising and lowering at an alarming rate. “I can’t- Bellamy you can’t-”

“-It’s okay,” he whispered, taking in a harsh breath as more blood gushed out of his wound, Murphy’s hands on his bare skin doing little to stop the life from flowing out of him. 

“No it’s not,” he whimpered. “You can’t die Bellamy. You- you can’t-” Murphy was spiraling quickly and was having trouble staying in the moment with Bellamy even though he knew he needed to. Sometimes panic attacks and mental breakdowns were unavoidable. Murphy had grown accustomed to that fact. 

“Murphy- hey,” Bellamy mumbled, “look at me.” Murphy looked down at Bellamy, hands still pressed over his wounds and tears falling off of his jaw and onto Bellamy’s chest. “It’ll be okay.”

“No-” Murphy shook his head rapidly, sobs wracking his body again. “Bellamy please don’t.” Bellamy coughed again, more life draining out of him from the corner of his lips. He moved his gaze to look into Murphy’s eyes above him. It was half-lidded and lazy, but it was better than nothing. 

“I love you, Murphy. You know that, right?” Bellamy’s bloody smile was enough to make Murphy’s lips turn up, a wrecked laugh escaping from between his clenched teeth. 

“Yeah,” Murphy trembled, face crumbling again when he felt Bellamy seizing underneath him. “I love- I love you too.”

“At least somebody does,” Bellamy said with a gasping breath, shedding a few more tears. 

“Hey-” Murphy said, his voice softer than it had ever been in his life. “They still love you, Bellamy. I know they do. They’re just- scared, and confused,” Murphy sighed. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it-” Bellamy cut himself off, hacking up more blood and letting out a low groan. “Murphy you need to leave- before the bridge closes.”

“Bellamy, I can’t-”

“-Yes, you can,” Bellamy rasped out. “You need to. I need you to.”

“Yeah well, you know what I need? You. Alive. With me,” Murphy said, sternly. “I’m not letting you die.”

“Murphy,” Bellamy smiled sadly. “There’s no time.” 

Murphy swallowed the lump in his throat and ignored how his skull, hands, chest, eyes, everything- how every single part of him ached, his heart especially so.

“Bellamy, I need you to know something.” Murphy noticed how Bellamy’s chest still moved and eyes still were responsive, but he was growing weaker and fast. “I’m in love with you.”

Bellamy looked at him strangely with an expression Murphy couldn’t quite understand. “Murph-”

“-And I have been since we first landed on the ground and then I met Emori and then we broke up and then I fell in love with you all over again and then you disappeared and now you’re back and you’re-” Murphy sobbed, cutting off another spout of fear-induced rambles. “-You’re _dying_ and I- I can’t just leave Bellamy. I can’t leave you here to die. I won’t.” 

Bellamy moved his hands from where they were shaking at his sides to place one over where Murphy’s were pressed in his heart and the other on Murphy’s face, wiping away a stray tear. “Bellamy,” Murphy whimpered again, voice cracking. He leaned his head over to rest on Bellamy’s collarbone, weeping violently into his chest. Murphy hadn’t cried so hard since the day his mother died, but that was different. This time he was grieving someone who reciprocated the love he felt for them. Murphy wasn’t sure which was worse. 

“I love you so much.” Bellamy turned his head to look at the anomaly once more and it was clear that Murphy only had minutes, seconds maybe before he’d be stuck in the palace with no one to keep him company but the decaying bodies of himself and Sheidheda. “You need to leave, Murphy. Please.”

“Bell-”

“-For me. This is what I want, okay? You need to go now,” Bellamy forewarned. Murphy shook his head again when he lifted his forehead from Bellamy’s chest, jaw wound tight and tears continuing to flow like a waterfall. Bellamy felt himself getting dizzier and dizzier by the second. He knew he didn’t have long. 

Bellamy moved Murphy’s hands slowly from his wound, holding Murphy’s wrists as tightly as he was able to. “Bellamy, what are you-”

“-Thank you for staying with me,” he whispered. “But now you need to let me go.”

Bellamy could feel more blood gushing from his mouth and from his wound, coming faster now than it had been before. Murphy just cried harder when noticed how drenched his clothes and skin were with Bellamy’s blood. 

“Come here,” Bellamy murmured. Murphy wasted no time resting his head on Bellamy’s shoulder again, breathing him in and desperately trying to commit his scent to memory. Bellamy ran a weak hand through Murphy’s hair, using every last bit of his energy up before it was time. “Shhhhh,” Bellamy hushed him. “It’s okay.” Murphy moved to gaze into Bellamy’s deep mahogany eyes. Bellamy could feel his desperately ragged breath against his skin. 

“Kiss me,” Bellamy breathed with pupils dilated, and Murphy wasted no time in obliging. To Murphy he tasted like blood, sweat, and tears but Bellamy was too far gone to place what Murphy tasted like on his sanguine lips. 

All Bellamy knew was that it felt _right_. 

All Murphy knew was that Bellamy felt like _home_. 

“I have to say this is never how I imagined our first kiss to go,” Murphy laughed when he broke away, smiling but still gasping for air. “Not to mention our last.” He breathed shakily and Bellamy felt his body start to go numb, spreading slowly from his toes to his shoulders. 

“Murphy-” Bellamy gasped, his eyelids starting to flutter shut as his body spasmed, more blood pooling underneath the two of them. 

“Bellamy- Bellamy stay with me,” Murphy said frantically, holding the man’s face upon his hands like it was glass. “Please don’t leave, Bell- I can’t lose you. Please don’t leave me.”

Bellamy’s eyes opened just enough for him to see and his strength still dwindled, but he had enough energy left in him to say his last words. “Murphy, you're worth so much more than I could even begin to explain-”

“-Bellamy-”

“-Just let me talk. Please.” Murphy closed the space between his lips. 

Bellamy took a shaky breath, smiling up at Murphy. “You deserve so much more than you let yourself have, y’know. You deserve unconditional love. You- you deserve to feel _alive_ instead of just surviving,” Bellamy said. “But you won’t let yourself have that because you don’t think you deserve it but god- Murphy you’re so wrong.” Murphy swallowed a lump in his throat. “Maybe if things were different I could’ve been the one to give you the love you deserve.” 

Murphy tried to put his hands back over Bellamy’s wound, but Bellamy moved his hand away, preventing him from letting the blood clot. “Bellamy things could be different if you would just let me-”

“-Murphy, could you just-” Bellamy stopped, hacking up more blood, “-please let me finish?” Murphy nodded, more tears falling. “This isn’t goodbye, okay? It never has been for us and it isn’t now. I will always find my way back to you, I promise.” he took another gasping breath, irises peering up at Murphy. “I love you, John Murphy.”

Then, Murphy watched through blurry, rose-colored glasses as Bellamy shut his eyes for the last time and a single tear rolled off of cheek and onto the floor. 

“No- no no no no,” Murphy’s eyes grew wild and his face grew frighteningly pale, feeling around for Bellamy’s pulse and weeping when he couldn’t find it. “Bellamy _please_ ,” he begged, his voice cracking pitifully on the last word. 

He needed to revive Bellamy somehow, like how he’d always seen his friends or the doctors in movies he’d seen do, but Murphy was too distraught to begin to remember how he could save Bellamy, his mind spinning, chest aching. He pulled at his hair in frustration feeling how his scalp burned at the mercy of his hands. He deserved all of the pain he was in. Every bad thing he had ever done in his life had led up to that moment. 

“I don’t want love- from anyone- else, I just want _you_. _I’ve always wanted you_ ,” Murphy cried, pausing between words to sniffle or sob. “Please come back,” he whispered, his voice so faint he could barely hear himself speak. 

The scene was so beautifully tragic. He was covered in a disgusting mixture of blood, tears, snot, sweat, and who knows what else, but he felt even more disgusting on the inside. 

Pain coursed through his body like it knew something was terribly, _terribly_ wrong, so much so that it almost made Murphy believe in soulmates. He could only imagine how painful it would be if one half of his heart died a messy, slow, agonizing death. And if soulmates were in fact real, him and Bellamy were evidently derived from the same stardust, and when he died he’d join Bellamy’s spirit in the sky. 

Murphy fell into another fit of sobbing, clutching his arms around his body tightly to try and quell the consuming loneliness that pulsed through his veins like a toxin. 

If he’d listened to Bellamy sooner this wouldn’t have happened. If he’d looked for Bellamy after he disappeared this wouldn’t have happened. If he’d told Bellamy how he felt sooner none of this would’ve happened because he would’ve always been at Bellamy’s side, protecting him and making sure nothing bad ever happened to Bellamy. 

But now it was too late. He couldn’t save Bellamy, and it was _all his fault_.

Murphy sat on the floor in the puddle of Bellamy’s blood, gasping until he was feverish and shivering. He spent over six years pining after Bellamy, being on and off in love with Bellamy, sometimes praying to whatever god there might be out there that Bellamy came back to him, and he always did. 

They always came back to each other because they _loved_ each other, but Bellamy wouldn’t come back this time. 

They were both stubborn, and angry, and had unhealthy coping mechanisms and trust issues, which all resulted in the Shakespearean tragedy of the situation. They’d only had mere minutes, to be honest with each other, to openly love each other for the first and last time before Bellamy died in Murphy’s arms. 

Delirious and fixated on the lines and freckles on Bellamy’s face, Murphy didn’t notice when Raven came back through the portal, yelling his name as he knelt next to Bellamy, cradling his face and tracing his skin with his fingertips. Although Bellamy was covered in tears streaked through patches of black and red gore, Murphy had never seen anyone or rather anything more beautiful, even at his worst. 

“Murphy we need to go-” Raven urged. “We seriously have like thirty seconds before that stupid thing closes again and we’re stuck here so are you going to-”

Raven stopped talking when Murphy turned around, shaking like a leaf in the wind and covered in blood with and eyes wet even though he probably should’ve already run out of them. “He’s gone, Raven,” Murphy croaked out, reaching a hand up to scrub roughly at his face. 

Raven walked up to him slowly, putting a hand on Murphy’s shoulder. “He’s been gone for a while.”

“No. He hasn’t,” Murphy said back. He tried to sound angry, he _was_ angry, but not at Raven. He didn’t have the energy to be mad at Raven. “If we just listened to him we could’ve-”

“-You did everything you could, Murphy,” she said softly, leaning down next to Bellamy’s body and pulling down Murphy with her. “In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground.” 

Murphy took in a deep breath and leaned over Bellamy, kissing his forehead softly and leaning up slowly when he muttered, “I’m so sorry, Bellamy.”

“It’s time to go,” Raven said after a moment of silence with her voice somber but her eyes dry, Murphy unresponsive who had finally stopped crying. He said nothing when he followed her back through the anomaly, he just stared off into space and hoped that he was dreaming.

-

The first thing John Murphy did when he arrived back on Earth was fall to his knees and violently wretch until his entire stomach was emptied onto the forest floor. 

This couldn’t be real, Murphy _always_ saw Bellamy again. They were like magnets, opposites in so many ways but always finding themselves right back where they started next to each other, attracted to each other. 

“Are you okay?” Emori asked after he’d stopped heaving. 

Murphy shook his head and gulped. “‘Mori it _hurts_.” Emori didn’t respond but simply placed a hand between his shoulder blades, trying to soothe him as best she could. 

The sound of someone crying, made the melancholy fade for a moment, morphing into a rage he hadn’t felt since he was hung just days after their descent from the Ark. 

Pushing Emori’s hand off of his back and wiping his mouth, probably smearing more of Bellamy’s blood on his face, he walked up to Clarke, seething. The phrase “if looks could kill” always felt arbitrary to her until she saw the sorrow and anger in his expression. 

“ _You_ ,” he snarled, getting closer and closer to Clarke until she could smell Bellamy’s blood on him. “You have no right to be upset. This is your fault, Clarke. You did this!” he screamed. His throat was inevitably raw from the crying and heartbreak he’d endured moments prior, but he didn’t care. It was like the night in Becca’s bunker all over again. 

Clarke just sobbed. “Murphy- I’m so sorry- I didn’t have a-”

“Choice? You didn’t have a choice? You’re such a fucking liar Bellamy gave you a choice. I gave you a choice,” he said. “But what did you do? You shot him, Clarke. You killed Bellamy for no reason- you didn’t even take the book.” 

“Murphy-” Echo tried to intervene, but he didn’t listen. 

“-You seriously couldn’t trust your best friend to keep Madi safe? You know he’d never do anything to hurt her,” Murphy said. “You know that I’d _never_ let anything happen to her either and I offered to stay with Bellamy to make sure of that but you didn’t care, did you? You don’t fucking trust me either? Do you, Clarke?” he growled. “All you had to do was listen to him and nobody could’ve died. People die when you’re in charge Clarke, remember?”

Bellamy had only been gone for a matter of minutes and Murphy already felt himself losing his mind at the man’s absence. 

“Murphy, that’s enough,” Octavia said, walking closer to them. “Bellamy wasn’t himself. Clarke couldn’t have trusted him-”

“-Yes he was! You all were just too stubborn to try for one second to listen to what Bellamy had to say. That’s all he wanted. He was still _our_ Bellamy,” Murphy said. “Just because none of you made the effort to see it doesn’t mean he wasn’t still there.”

Murphy turned away from Clarke for a moment and walked a few steps away, turning to look at his friends that stood around him, some looking at him with concern, others disdain, others pity. “He died thinking all of you hated him,” he said, suddenly sounding sorrowful, voice shaking. “I had to reassure him that you all didn’t because I didn’t want him to die thinking that I was the only person that loved him,” he sighed. “Now I’m not sure if he was wrong.” Murphy scowled at Clarke once more and then back at the others before walking off into the forest, shaking with anger. 

Suddenly, Madi turned away and started to walk in the same direction as Murphy. “Madi-” Clarke started. 

“-Let me go,” she said, physically distraught. “You didn’t have to kill him, especially if you thought he’d let me get hurt. He wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“Madi listen to me-”

“-You just want an excuse to not have to hear what you don’t want to hear,” she said. “I’m going to go sit with Murphy whether you like it or not because I can make my own decisions, but clearly you disagree since you keep deciding for me.” 

“Madi I made that decision for all of us-”

“-I didn’t ask you to! And now you have to live with the fact that you killed him,” she said. “I don’t want that for you.” Clarke didn’t respond. “-Let me go, Clarke. Unless you don’t trust Murphy either?”

Clarke took a deep breath and walked towards her daughter. “Murphy’s- complicated when he’s angry. I think you should give him time to cool down. We all should.” 

Madi shook her head. “I’m going,” she said, not turning around to ask for permission. The rest of them watched as she ran in the direction Murphy went. Some went to follow Madi but Emori and Raven urged them to let her go. 

She stopped at a creak when she saw Murphy sitting against a tree in front of it, and lowered herself down next to him slowly. Murphy didn’t react to Madi sitting beside him, his eyes tinted red but his knuckles were redder with fresh blood above the dried. 

She rested her head on Murphy’s shoulder and the two of them sat together in silence, listening to the sound of creek roll over the rocks beneath the water. “I miss him so much already,” Murphy muttered. 

“Yeah,” she whispered back. “Me too.”

“I loved him,” he confessed, quietly. “I’m sorry for yelling earlier. I didn’t want to scare you. I- I was just so _angry_. Not just at Clarke- just- I can’t explain it.”

Madi shuffled her body to swing her legs out in front of her from where they sat previously at her side. “It didn’t scare me. You don’t have to apologize for having emotions,” she said. “You could’ve left and gone through the anomaly without him but you stayed with him even though it was hard for you.” She picked a small blue flower that had sprouted in a spot near her thigh, twisting its stem between her fingers. “I don’t think everyone else gives you enough credit. You have a right to be upset.”

Murphy sighed, moving his cheek to rest against her head. “Thank you, Madi.” Murphy paused for a moment, Madi could hear the gears turning in his brain as he thought. “You have to forgive her though,” Murphy said. “You know that right?”

“Why? You’re allowed to be mad at her and I’m not?” 

“You’re allowed to feel whatever you want to feel but she did what she thought she had to do to protect you even though she was wrong. It’ll probably take me a while to fully forgive her for what she did but you’re everything to her. She’d do anything for you,” Murphy explained. “I would’ve killed for my mother to love me as half as much as Clarke loves you.”

Madi exhaled. “Okay. I’ll talk to her when we get back,” she said. “But can we just sit here for a little while longer? Please?” 

“Sure,” he replied, finally feeling the pain in his eyes subside from a burn to an ache. 

Madi didn’t respond and the two of them continued to sit in comfortable silence. Even though Murphy was doused in Bellamy’s blood and the air started to grow cold around them, they didn’t move until the sun began to set. 

Eventually, they started to walk back, figuring it was better than the group frantically yelling their names throughout the forest all night. Once they spotted the fire and all their friends surrounding it, Murphy sent Madi to go sit with them on her own, still wanting to walk around in the quiet of the forest until the sun fully set. 

Surprisingly enough, Picasso had not only made it through the anomaly with them but could sense Murphy’s presence from a distance, and ran to where he stood. Murphy lent down to pet the golden-haired dog, fluffing the fur around her neck with his fingers. “You should go back with the others,” Murphy said pointing to them. “Go on.”

She barked at him and started walking past where his friends sat. Picasso looked back every once in a while to make sure Murphy was following, which made the whole scenario even more strange than it already was. When Picasso saw something with a golden glow behind a rock not too far from the group she yipped happily and scurried back toward the fire. 

Murphy furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what Picasso wanted to show him. “It’s probably a dead animal,” Murphy smirked, thinking out loud. He walked up to the large rock and when he turned the corner the sight brought tears to his eyes. 

Bellamy’s words echoed in his mind, “ _This isn’t goodbye, okay? It never has been for us and it isn’t now. I will always find my way back to you, I promise_.” Murphy couldn’t keep the stupid, lovesick smile from growing on his face. 

He sat down next to the rock and relished in how bittersweet it all was. His crimson-stained hand moved to pick one of the flowers and lifted it to his nose so he could smell it, clutching the flower close to his chest after he did so. Sitting in front of the small field of golden light, Murphy allowed himself to breathe and brushed some of the weight off of his shoulders. 

“Bellamy,” he sighed, speaking to the wind. “Thank you.”

The patch of radiated calla lilies swayed back and forth as the wind grew stronger and colder. Murphy knew it would rain soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to drag his eyes away from the flowers.

“ _What’s your favorite flower?_ ” Murphy had remembered Bellamy asking him one night on the Ark, both of them incredibly far from sober. 

“ _Calla lilies_ ,” Murphy had hiccuped, features flooding with something akin to joy. 

“ _Why?_ ” 

“ _‘Cause_ _they’re shaped like bells,_ ” Murphy had responded with a wink, smiling so hard his face hurt. 

Looking into Bellamy’s eyes always did something to Murphy, affected him emotionally in some way, or instantly made him feel safe, it always depended on the day. Though looking at the flowers Picasso had led him to made him feel nothing but _warmth_. 

“May we meet again,” Murphy whispered to the flowers as he stood, looking back to where his friends were. They’d surely put out the fire soon to seek shelter and sleep, so Murphy knew he had to leave. 

As he walked away Murphy turned around once more to catch a glimpse of the flowers, but the glowing calla lilies were gone. He could only find it in himself to smile at the ground. 

Unbeknownst to Murphy, the ghost of Bellamy Blake stood where the calla lilies just had been, his eyes warm and soul finally at peace. He wore a bittersweet smile that matched the boy who mourned for him, Murphy, so far in the distance that Bellamy could barely see his silhouette. 

“We will meet again,” Bellamy promised with phantom tears in his eyes, and let himself fall into the light. 

**Author's Note:**

> you’ve made it to the end i see >:) splendid 
> 
> please leave your genuine opinions, thoughts, comments, concerns in the comments below i thrive as a writer off of feedback & criticism on here so it is always appreciated even if u want to tell me my writing is terrible i welcome all opinions 
> 
> i hope ur all doing well & that this did not make u too sad !!! i tried to make the ending bittersweet/hopeful rather than just plain sad bc i don’t like ending things on a bad note so i hope that it turned out ok :)


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